


Calloused

by Selena Barton (sel_barton)



Series: High Maintenance Universe [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sel_barton/pseuds/Selena%20Barton





	Calloused

“I know you aren't used to these sorts of things, so if you really don't want to go, I'll understand,” Quatre said, his voice showing just a bit of his disappointment in the fact he didn't expect Trowa to go.

“But do you want me to go?” Trowa asked snaking his arms around Quatre's waist and meeting his blue eyes in the mirror.

“Of course I do,” Quatre said softly, though leaving no room for doubt. “But I also know that you aren't comfortable...” Quatre's voice faded, leaving it unsaid.

“If you insist that no matter what they think it doesn't matter, and you promise me that it won't upset you,” Trowa said, pausing when he knew he'd said enough for Quatre to know what he meant even if he was having trouble trying to phrase it.

Quatre nodded, “I insist and promise.”

Trowa swallowed. “Then I guess I need to find some new clothes,” he grumbled.

Quatre laughed until he caught the look in Trowa's eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Have you ever gone clothes shopping with Duo?”

Quatre shook his head watching his lover in the mirror.

“Trust me, it's not exactly the best idea,” Trowa said avoiding explaining in the moment. He didn't think telling Quatre Duo's idea of helpful fell to very simple criteria.

* * *

Trowa looked at the dress clothes with little interest. 

“You should look happier, Tro'. He isn't afraid to show you off to his friends. Hell, coworkers.”

“Which is why I have to pick the right clothes, and I have no idea what to get.”

Duo smiled, “Something that says hot as hell with class.”

“Over priced sex on legs?” Trowa asked to clarify.

“Yep!” Duo chirped.

“That's not helpful,” Trowa replied at his exuberant friend.

“Come on, you're gonna need some stress relief before and after. Ya better look damned good,” Duo laughed.

“Tell me something I don't already know,” Trowa sighed looking at yet another jacket he didn't want. “None of this is me.”

“You'd be surprised,” Duo countered and looked around a little before he saw what he wanted.

Trowa followed Duo, mostly out of morbid curiosity but partly out of desperation. When Duo started picking up pieces of clothing, Trowa was pleasantly surprised. Duo certainly was good at picking out things that made a guy wanna strip ya down and have his wicked way with you. 

“Alright, go,” Duo said pointing to the changing room. “See if they size them the same as everything else we wear.”

Trowa rolled his eyes at the thought of something being measured differently just because it was a different style, but he decided companies were evil that way.

“I told ya, hot as hell with class,” Duo gloated as Trowa stepped out of the dressing room.

* * *

Trowa walked into the front room as Quatre closed the door. Quatre couldn't help the way his eyes ran over him as he turned around. “Trowa,” he gasped, voice taking on a deeper tone instantly.

“Is it alright?” Trowa asked smoothing his hand over the shirt one more time.

“Alright? Trowa, you're stunning,” Quatre breathed as he closed the distance between them. “I'm almost afraid to have you seen out like this. Might lose you.”

“Not a chance,” Trowa rumbled, lips brushing against Quatre's. 

* * *

Quatre was beaming when they entered the reception hall. In a way, he was glad his father had rented the hall rather than having it in the house. He didn't want to subject Trowa to that yet. Here he had a chance of avoiding his father some, keeping a bit of distance between them rather than daring the argument he was sure would ensue.

Heero nudged Wufei drawing his attention to them as they headed toward them. 

“I'm surprised,” Wufei said quietly.

His wife leaned her head around just enough to see them coming toward them and smiled.

“He knows what he's getting himself into,” Heero reminded as he looked at the pair with him. “He's already seen it once.”

“Yes,” Wufei said with a faint nod, “but I didn't have the added stigma of orientation.”

Heero nodded.

“Welcome Quatre,” Wufei greeted as they stepped in close enough to hear him. He nodded toward them both.

“Wufei,” Quatre smiled brightly. “This is Trowa.”

“Good evening, Trowa,” Wufei answered offering his hand for a shake. 

Neither was surprised by the firm grip of the other, but the small smile on Wufei's lips caught Trowa's attention. He brushed the thought off as he heard him reminding Heero that they'd met in the apartment all that time ago.

“Hello, again,” Heero said and shook the offered hand.

“And this lovely lady,” Quatre started.

“I'm Kit,” she said softly offering a hand for him to shake as well.

Trowa looked her over quickly as their hands parted.

“Careful, my wife is an officer of the law,” Wufei said without even glancing at Trowa.

Trowa looked at him a bit unsure how to take that comment.

“Ignore him. His sense of humor takes some getting used to,” she said with a smirk. “Anything said without a memorandia is inadmissible anyway.”

Trowa shook his head.

“You two are going to have him more nervous than he already is,” Quatre said watching them. “I can't take either of you anywhere,” he sighed with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes.

“You'll learn, this is how they get through the evenings without complete boredom,” Heero said smiling. “If you can follow the legal jabs all the way through, then you are a better man than I.”

Trowa smiled softly and gave a nod.

Kit shook her head. “And if we say something that bothers you, speak up. We don't bite, much.”

“You had better not bite anyone else,” Wufei teased.

All friendly teasing halted as Heero motioned their attention to the approaching man. He was well dressed like all the others, light red hair and cornflower blue eyes. 

“Oh Allah, not tonight,” Quatre grumbled. “I begged you for this to go smoothly,” he muttered.

Trowa had only thought things were going to be awkward, but as the others shifted in closer to them, he knew it was not the best place to be.

“Mister Winner,” the man called as he got closer. 

Quatre turned with his business smile in place. The man never did leave a chance for someone to slip off as if they hadn't noticed him.

“Mister Waters,” Quatre said politely, shaking the man's hand.

“Is this a new associate of yours?” he asked extending his hand to Trowa.

“Not exactly,” Quatre said. He wasn't in the way the man meant after all, but in another way, Quatre could see it being a yes as well. “This is Trowa.”

The man withdrew his man with a puzzled look on his face. “Is he your date for the evening?” he finally asked.

Quatre nodded, “He is.”

“Couldn't you find someone a bit higher up?” he asked.

“Higher up?” Quatre asked.

“He has the hands of a laborer. Surely there were more fitting people.”

Trowa shifted uncomfortably for a moment bracing himself for what he was sure was going to be unpleasant. He unconsciously rubbed at a callus with his thumb.

“Do you mean like you? I hardly see that as anywhere near a comparison. I chose perfectly,” Quatre replied never losing his business smile.

“You would choose a common laborer over class and culture?” the man huffed.

“I believe he's showing more class than you,” Kit muttered. Wufei elbowed her quickly to make her butt out.

“What was that?” the man grumbled.

“She said,” Heero clarified, “you're not showing any class right now. And he is.”

The man's face flushed and he whirled on his heel.

Quatre turned to look at Trowa, face full of worry. No one in the tiny group was surprised when Quatre's hands reached out and stilled Trowa's. 

“Don't. Just don't,” Quatre whispered. “Don't you dare believe a word he said.”

“I think we should go get drinks,” Wufei said to his two companions and ushered them away from Trowa and Quatre.

“He's right, though. I don't belong here,” Trowa whispered.

Quatre sighed. “Does Kit look like she belongs here?”

Trowa nodded.

“She grew up in China Town. The reason she is an officer is because of all that went on in her area. She's not money. She's street fights and ramon dinners,” Quatre told him. “She worked in bars to get money for college. And she went through the same thing when Wufei started dating her.

“The only thing telling them you don't belong here is you. You are the one not believing it. You are dressed just as nicely as the three of us,” Quatre said with a firm nod. “All you have to do is believe you belong here, belong with me.”

“Quatre,” he started and went wide eyed when Quatre drew his head down for their foreheads to touch.

“You love me. I know you do, and I love you. I want to be with you, only you,” Quatre said, his tone was so soft yet so certain, eve Trowa couldn't find a way to doubt in his words.

Trowa caught the light smile that spread over Quatre's lips as their head parted and he looked past Trowa's shoulder.

“I think they are waiting to see if it's safe to come back yet,” he chuckled very softly. “Think you'll make it through a bit more of the evening?”

Trowa nodded with a small smile, “As long as I don't have to shake any more hands.”

“You just save those hands for tonight,” Quatre purred quietly. “I like those hands.”

Trowa flushed lightly and swallowed quickly. Before he could comment, Quatre was motioning the others back over.

“I hope this is acceptable,” Wufei said as he handed Trowa a drink. 

“Thanks,” Trowa replied and sipped at the drink. “It's good.”

“Not too fruity?” Kit asked with a smirk.

Trowa shook his head. 

“Told you,” she chuckled, and Wufei nodded.

* * *

“Trowa,” Quatre called as he entered their bedroom that night.

“Hmm?” Trowa hummed and turned to face the blond.

Quatre held out his hand and waited for Trowa to take it. He was hesitant, had been since Mister Waters and his rude comment. Quatre slowly walked backwards, guiding them to their bed.

Quatre was quiet, slow and deliberate in his movements, a gentle brushing of fingers through hair, fingers running along a tanned jaw, lips pressing to warm lips. Subtle reassurances. He was pleased when Trowa finally pressed his own lips back, tongue slipping out to trail along the lower lip.

Quatre took the last step back letting his legs give as they met the mattress, drawing Trowa in closer between his legs. He rested Trowa's hands on his shoulders and let his own run up over the silken boxers and up onto the warm, muscled sides.

“Quatre,” Trowa's voice purred.

Quatre kissed his stomach, then lifted one hand from his shoulder and began to kiss it, pressing tender kisses to every inch, covering the callused spots more than the others. He didn't stop until Trowa seemed to relax completely and his breath was unsteady.

“Love your hands on me,” Quatre whispered, his breath warm and tickling the palm of Trowa's hand. “The way you touch me like I'm the most precious thing you've ever had.”

He drew Trowa's face down to kiss him slowly, slipping his tongue into the warm mouth, not stopping the tracing and caressing of the cavern until they needed air. “Your touch is precious to me, Trowa.” He pressed another kiss to the callused hand, “You show such trepidation when you touch me now. Please,” he whispered, tongue slipping out to lap at the digit near his mouth.

“Please?” Trowa moaned, his voice a light quiver.

“Don't take it away from me. Don't take that loving touch away,” Quatre whispered. 

A low growl rumbled free of Trowa's throat. He eased Quatre back onto the bed, leaning down over with him, kissing him fiercely. Quatre arched into the touch as Trowa's hands began to slowly slide over the toned arms and shoulders up and down slowly, gently. 

Trowa never failed to notice just how aroused simple things made Quatre, such simple things. The way his hands felt running over his skin, the way his lips pressed to his sensitive spots, the press of a firm member against his thigh, the way his cum would drip from the tip of his erection onto Quatre's skin as he kissed and touched him. He could bring Quatre so close with just that so easily. 

Quatre arched and made such desperate sounds. Trowa leaned down to lick along the dripping length.

“Trowa,” Quatre sighed, “please.”

Trowa looked up over the writhing body to the blue eyes looking down at him. “With your hands, please,” Quatre panted out.

Trowa smiled gently. Quatre rarely made such requests letting Trowa show his affections as he felt the desire to do so. 

Trowa wrapped his hand loosely around the dripping length, careful of how he touched the sensitive flesh. Quatre's hips jerked and thrust into the touch, a hungry, needy sound escaping him in moan after moan.

“More,” Quatre panted, “need more.”

Trowa tightened his grip, and the pleased groan told him he'd done just what Quatre wanted, needed. His hand slid over the length, up and down, pumping Quatre, slowing only when Quatre was about to lose control to delay an ending to his pleasure.

Trowa would deny just how much this turned him on, giving Quatre just what he wanted, yet without holding it at the same time. He was well aware that Quatre wanted to coat his hand, wanted to cry out in pleasure, but being able to see him like that was so precious. He never wanted to lose the ability to make Quatre let go like that. Never.

Trowa reached his free hand down between Quatre's thighs, trailing his fingers over the warm sac, causing Quatre to lose all control as his body shuddered. His voice filled the room with a impassioned cry that panted and shuddered from his lips.

Quatre forced his eyes open as Trowa's fingertips slid off of his length, watched as Trowa's tongue darted out to lap up the wetness from his fingers.

“Trowa,” was all he could manage to breath out as he watched, his member twitching its own approval though too spent to do more.

Trowa smiled warmly as he let the blue eyes follow the tip of his tongue as he cleaned his hand. The faint shiver coursing along his spine as he lost himself in both those eyes and his boxers.

He drew himself back and lifted Quatre's legs up onto the bed, positioning him so that he'd not have to move again until he'd gotten some sleep. He curled in against Quatre's side, kissing his cheek.

Quatre's hand trailed along the arm around him. “What about you?” he asked trying to force his eyes to remain open.

“Rest now,” Trowa purred against the sensitive skin of his neck. He couldn't begin to tell Quatre just how much that had pleased him. He'd never cum like that before, and it was certainly a power he didn't feel like revealing right then.

He ran a calloused hand over Quatre's stomach to snuggle in close. “Your hands can do the work later,” Trowa yawned.

Quatre nodded and turned just enough to face Trowa and wrap his arms around him. “Gladly,” he whispered and let his eyes drift shut. “Gladly.”


End file.
